Danny Boy - just squeezing in, in time for TOMORROW!

http://www.scribd.com/doc/28303925/Danny-Boy
If you don't know the words to this song, perhaps you should steer clear of the Shamrock Bar this week! Or if you have a musical bone in your body, get a free copy of the song.

What has Ireland done for you?

• Well, there's the Coffey still, used in making Whiskey (but nobody has invented a Whiskey still for making Coffee yet. Bad luck.)


• Francis Rynd invented the hollow needle used in hypodermic syringes. I leave it to you to decide if that was a good thing or not


• Earnest Walton, working with John Cockcroft, helped to split the atom for the first time, at which point I refer my reader to historic footage of The First Irish Moon Shot

A mouse in her room woke Miss Dowd,
She was frightened, it must be allowed.
Soon a happy thought hit her
To scare off the critter:
She sat up in bed and meowed

Death by diarrhoea

With Mr.Marlow spending the next two weeks touring Scotland, I have permission, and opportunity to spend more time accompanying Dr.Snow and pursuing my studies. And while the merchant families provide the greater part of his income, his compassion extends to treating many of the Irish immigrants who can barely afford a guinea for a consultation, unlike one of his colleagues who I met in the course of business, and who declined to attend a sick child because the family could not afford his fee, but neither were they poor enough to qualify for support from the parish rate.
I was aware of the outbreak of cholera in the city, and have been very careful about boiling water for use in the house, and taking a small flask of boiled water with me when I accompany the doctor since I can't afford to risk being infected myself¹. When I arrived at Dr.Snow's consulting room this afternoon it had already been made abundantly clear to me just why so many people choose to leave London during the summer. There are some districts where the smell is just unimaginable! I was reminded of the smell of newly-turned stale horse-manure, and it seemed to linger in small pockets all along my route. Even breathing through my mouth I found myself gagging and holding a handkerchief and a small spray of lavender (threepence-halfpenny) over my face.
When I arrived, Dr.Snow first asked me to read a 39-page pamphlet² which he had written: it seems astonishing that I should have held one of the first printed copies of a small book with the power to change the course of scientific thought. But in typical manner, before I had time to read the book thoroughly, Dr.Snow invited me to join him in his laboratory, a small room adjacent to his surgery where he directed me to examine for myself two slides which he had mounted; one prepared with water from a brook on Hampstead Heath, the other with water from the Thames.
While the Hampstead Heath sample has its share of flotsam, the sample from the Thames seems positively crowded by comparison!
I was still making my own drawings from the slides under the microscope when Dr.Snow had a visitor; a Police constable had arrived to request his assistance in caring for an injured navigator, a "Tunnel Tiger", having first tried to obtain the services of Dr.Barrett, being nearer to Rotherhithe. But since Dr.Barrett was already attending a patient, he recommended his colleague Dr.Snow, even though it would mean travelling further.
When we arrived at the Police station where Brendan Daugherty had been made as comfortable as possible my first impression was that a drunken Irishman had injured himself. It wasn't until Dr.Snow began taking the man's verbal history while he gently unbandaged the poor fellow's ruined hand that I understood; his intoxication was the result of cheap brandy, administered as an analgesic. And it is as a tribute to this unfortunate, and so many like him, that I include the following song:

References

1. Recommended precautions for preventing, and coping with cholera
2. On the Mode of Communication of Cholera, reprinted 1855

                   

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Away with the fairies

By the time I tottered off to my room the hour was late, and I was rather feeling the various effects of

• more than two pints of cider
• a couple of hours of very vigorous dancing
• learning a couple of new songs from Mr.Nolan,

not having a timepiece with me I had no idea what time it was when I was shaken awake by Mr.Connelly, but as he yelled at me that the tavern was afire my nostrils confirmed the tang of smoke in the air. The decision to sleep in my long-tailed shirt meant that I didn't have to worry about decency in the midst of the emergency, but even as I was pulling my knee-britches on Mr.Connelly asked me to help him save the strongbox which held his wife's few items of jewellery, and most of the family's savings.
I should explain at this point that the tavern was built into the side of a steep hill, so the window of my upstairs room opened perhaps six feet above the ground level, and it was through my room that Mr.Connelly urged his two older children to make their escape, their terrified mother accompanying them with baby Sean held tightly in her arms.
In the Connelly's private apartment we took hold of a small wooden chest no more than eighteen inches in any dimension by my reckoning, with sturdy black iron handles. But for its small size it still proved surprisingly heavy. At some length, between the two of us we manhandled the chest out of the window and dropped it to the ground where I was almost certain it would burst, but the iron bands on the lid, and around the sides held it firm.
Mr.Connelly insisted that I should jump next, and that is where things began to get confused. I wasn't confident about jumping even such a short distance to the ground and was trying to pluck up courage, that much I remember clearly. But then I think I was pushed.
Whether I landed badly, I'm not sure, but I don't remember anything between hesitating in the window, and waking. The next morning, when I woke I was cold, stiff and still only partly dressed. And laying on the hay in the hayloft of the stables opposite the tavern. Of course, my first thought was to look for the Connellys and see how badly the tavern had been damaged, and that was when I got the biggest surprise.
The building itself showed no signs of fire, but searching around to the rear of the building, the window of the room which I had occupied was ajar, and while I was out there, Angus the apprentice and potboy came down the hill, carrying a basket of fresh eggs and whistling cheerfully.

"'tis a fine clear morning for the fresh sweet air, is it not?"
I asked Angus if anything ... had happened last night, and of course he wanted to know why I might think anything had. So I was obliged to recount most of my recollection of events to him.
His face took on a thoughtful expression: "Well, I would say it is possible, though some might disagree, that the fair folk played a trick on you last night."
After that, there was no stemming the tide of gossip from the pub and I left as soon as was decently possible, but not without a fair bit of good-natured mirth at my expense; Mr.Connelly was kind enough to reassure me that his family's wealth was quite secure. But what concerned me more were the few, mostly the womenfolk, who crossed themselves and lowered their gaze as I left the village.

Still in Ireland

some notes on the history of Irish dance
a tantalizing glimpse of the history of firefighting in Ireland
                   

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